They buried him in Willesden churchyard after the robbery. They had not to tarry long. Gerald would certainly have demanded back his sword. She hugged Lucy, who had finished eating. She went about in a negligent November London that had become very dark and foggy and greasy and forbidding indeed, and tried to find that modest but independent employment she had so rashly assumed. What Miss Miniver would have called the Higher Truth supervenes. ‘That is settled then.
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